~Nathaniel
The car hummed beneath me, the vibrations blending with the chaotic whirlpool of my thoughts. I stared at the small slip of paper in my hand, the address scrawled in faint ink, almost as if it was mocking me for hesitating this long.
“She’s there,” I muttered under my breath, the reality sinking in like a heavy stone dropped into a still pond.
The masked Shakira.
The woman who had haunted my dreams for the last five years. The thought of facing her now felt like walking willingly into a lion’s den.
I leaned back, closing my eyes as the scenarios played out in my mind.
What would she say? Would she even open the door?
I pictured her standing there, her face twisting with anger. Maybe she’d hurl a bucket of scalding hot water at me or, worse, cold water—sharp, u
